


Holes

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Series: Goretober 2K19 [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Canon Typical Corruption, Drabble, F/F, Fluff, Goretober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 06:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21011543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: So very many.





	Holes

**Author's Note:**

> you can not believe the restraint it took to not put holes lyrics in the summery. yall remember holes? that was a good movie.

“How'd you get this one?”   
  
The Dancer is kind to them, delicate. Sweet in her own lovely way. She runs her borrowed flesh over The Hive's thousands of protrusions, where others would squirm away, get as far as possible, The Dancer always took her time, memorizing and then re-memorizing the patterns on this tired flesh.   
  
“Worms.” Jane Prentiss says, voice more croaky then anything, probably from lack of use. Or from all the holes in it.   
  
“And this one?” The Dancer prods at a cluster of them, festering and empty for the moment before a little worm crawls out and prods at her finger, sending her into a fit of laughter. Pretty, musical laughter.   
  
“Worms.” Jane Prentiss says again.   
  
“They can't all be from worms.” She twists around in bed, odd blocky movements, and pulls the thin scrap of tarp they've been using as a blanket back. “This one looks like something big went through.” She prods at the hole in the Hive's thigh, where someone weak little human thing shot at them.   
  
The Dancer sticks her finger into it and the Hive shudders for a moment. The intrusion of their home isn't unwelcome, per say, just something they have to get used to every single time. Their finger bumps something that isn't bone.  
  
“Bullet.” Jane Prentiss says.   
  
“Ah- see!” She beams and the Hive tremors in satisfaction. “I could get it out for you- if you like.”   
  
They nod, because it would make her happy and there's no reason for it to still be stuck in there anyway.   
  
As much as they do adore her, because she is a sweet and curious thing that makes the Host happy and makes them happy too, she's not exactly- what's the human word- delicate.   
  
“Sorry-” She hums as skin rips and what was a small hole becomes rather a bit thicker to accommodate two fingers. “Let me just-” She hums, and they hum too- to fill the room with glorious music. “You should sing for me-”   
  
They nod because she says this every time, almost like its on a schedule of some sort.   
  
“Oh would you really?”   
  
They nod again.   
  
Jane Prentiss leans over and presses a kiss to her head that makes The Dancer even happier because she hums higher, and then once the bullet is out, flung across the room, squeal with laughter.   
  
“You're lovely- you really are so very lovely.”   
  
“So are you.” After a moment, “Can I kiss you?”   
  
“Oh, so polite.” She claps her hands together and gets back into their lap, already distracted from the mess she's made of their thigh. They kiss her, arms around her shoulders, porous tongue against stolen muscle, until they, all of them are overjoyed with themselves. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always encouraged and appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/licotain)


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